


Jack of Diamonds

by lexoskeleton



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Character Analysis, Gen, Heist, Just revenge, Lawyers, No Romance, OC, Pre-Chairman Election Arc (Hunter X Hunter), as a treat, mafia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:08:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24706609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lexoskeleton/pseuds/lexoskeleton
Summary: Professional negotiator Offal Marsetter is on the tail end of her third marriage when 80 billion jeni in mafia-owned jewels are stolen from her basement.When she discovers that her husband is trying to pin the theft on her, she's forced to assemble what could be the best – or worst – team possible to retrieve the stolen jewelry. Armed with a good friend, a better lawyer, and a nen ability designed to get her out of trouble, Offal must hustle like she's never hustled before if she wants to escape the mob’s wrath.
Relationships: Hisoka & Kurapika (Hunter X Hunter), Kurapika & Senritsu | Melody (Hunter X Hunter)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 19





	1. Godfathers and Anime

**Author's Note:**

> Offal is pronounced "awful"

Her first mistake was letting Chrollo Lucilfer into her house. Her second mistake was letting him leave without checking his pockets. Her third mistake was thinking that her husband wouldn’t hire an assassin from the Zoldyck Family to kill her because of it. 

Offal Marsetter had been mulling through divorce paperwork when her front door busted open. Her gun was tucked in her nightstand drawer, too far for her to reach from the kitchen. Smoke barreled into the foyer. A large man in a pink dress shirt that she didn’t know walked in, pulled the pin out of a smoke bomb, and rolled it under the table where she was sitting. Her Hatsu would not work in this situation. This man did not come with the intention to talk, but it was clear by his mode of entry that he would not immediately kill her. 

The vapor was dense and misty – it smelled like dirt. The tips of her fingers went numb, then her hands, then her arms and legs. When her eyes started to drift shut, and her body slumped forward onto the table, she thought about how lucky she was that the attack hadn’t happened while she was walking down the stairs. 

She didn’t know exactly when she passed out, but when she came to it was 4:11 PM the same day. She was in her living room, seated on her favorite recliner. Her arms were handcuffed behind her back, and her ankles were securely fastened to the chair’s legs. On the television was the paused image of her husband’s face. The man who had broken into her home was still here, rifling through the VHS tapes on her shelf. 

“Do you like anime?” She asked in a calm voice. This wasn’t a conversation she thought she would be having today.

The man turned to face her, surprised, “About time you woke up. Mind if I take these?” He held up a few of the cases, Volumes I and II of an anime called Perfect Pink, “I’ve been trying to find a signed first edition copy of these for, like, ever.” 

“Help yourself. Can I ask why I’m tied up?” 

“Oh, yeah. Your husband wanted you to watch this video before I kill you.” 

He reached for the remote when Offal stopped him, “Before I do that, can we talk about Perfect Pink? I can’t get any of my friends to watch it. I have all these theories I need to get off my chest before I die.”

“Wait, are you serious? Everyone I know has seen it. It’s a cult classic.”

This was good, she could use this. “I know! Ok, ok, I have to ask: do you think she killed the photographer?”

The man spit out one condescending laugh. “There’s no way she didn’t do it. Especially when you consider the bloody uniform in her closet was exactly her size. I mean, come on. Use your eyes.”

“That’s what I’ve been saying for years! I can’t stand everyone online who is trying to steamroll the theory that her manager did it because of the ice pick. No one ever wants to talk about the door chain. You can totally agree that they’re idiots with zero media comprehension, am I right?” 

“Oh my god, yes. Nobody remembers the door chain!” 

And with that affirmative confirmation, Offal’s Nen Ability – _Heart Quake: Telephone Tether_ – activated. A rotary dial appeared over her heart, and her Hatsu, in the shape of a telephone cord, shot from it into the stranger’s chest. Had he been using Gyo he would have caught this, but he had no reason to think that she was able to use nen; only two people knew that truth about her. Negotiation tactics were useless once word got out about them, most of all ones that used nen.

“I could seriously talk about Perfect Pink for three days straight. My life changed on July 5th at 2:17 AM after watching the finale. My godfather refused to talk to me for a while because I wouldn’t stop calling him about it,” after recalling the date and time, Offal’s secondary Hatsu activated, and her chest filled with genuine and giddy excitement. The feeling that was instantly shared with her assailant thanks to the ability known as _Empath’s Hotline: Crocodile Actor_. It was so overwhelming that it caused the two to forget about their roles as captor and captive; the only thing either of them cared at the present moment was anime. This was, again, not a conversation she thought she would be having today.

His eyes lit up, as if on cue, “Who’s your godfather?” 

“You might have heard of him: Tripe Con,” she said with a grin.

His jaw hit the floor, “No way.” 

“Yeah way, check out the third picture in the hall.” 

“Your godfather is not the director of Perfect Pink,” he joked, shaking his head as he walked down the hallway. “He was at your wedding!? He let you take his picture?”

“He gave me away at my wedding,” she replied, heart warming at the thought, “well, my third wedding.” 

With an excited determination, the stranger walked back into the living room and sat on the chair next to hers. He stared at her for a long time before asking, “Have you heard about the rumor that he was cremated with all of the original cel sheets from Perfect Pink?”

“What if I told you that rumor was false? I would know, he made me the sole inheritor of his estate after his husband died.”

A heavy bead of sweat rolled down the man’s brow, “You don’t…”

Bingo.

“I do,” she nodded her head smugly.

“All one hundred and fifty thousand frames?” 

“Backgrounds paintings, too. All practically untouched by time in an archival-quality safe.” 

The warmth left the room as soon as she finished speaking.

The stranger’s eyes crunched together in worry, and his tongue swept along his bottom row of teeth, “Didn’t that safe get robbed?” 

Fear washed over both of them. Offal swallowed, “What?”

“Yeah, I… let’s watch the video,” he picked up the remote and pressed play. “I’m not gonna kill you right away or anything after this, so don’t freak out.” 

Her husband’s face started to move on the screen, started to speak. His hair had shed from its coif, and his tie was just slightly undone. He looked rough, unkempt, like he hadn’t slept in days. Offal knew this look. He got like this whenever he was about to wildly overreact to something. When they started dating, she honestly thought that she could fix this about him, but it was an endeavor taken in vain. Greed and love led people into strange caverns of thought. 

“Offal, this is Roe. I’m sorry I had to do this, but you have to understand that this is for your own good,” he dabbed the sweat off his brow with the handkerchief she’d given him on his thirtieth birthday. “I don’t know why you did it, and I didn’t want to say anything to you, but all the jewelry from the safe is gone. All of it. Just, gone out of thin air.” 

The video switched from his ragged face to the security footage of the 1,200 square foot vault they kept in their basement. It was impenetrable, and to even get to it required extensive, memorized knowledge of the house’s secret tunnels. One misstep would cause the passageway to mangle every inch of your body, save your head. The vault itself ran on a nen-conjured lock that could only be opened by one of three people: Offal, Roe, and Roe’s godfather, a newly minted mafia don by the name of Trotter Sweetbread. If any of these people were under the influence of foreign nen, the safe would not open, and an alarm would be sounded. It was foolproof. It was supposed to be foolproof.

“Here you are letting this – this complete stranger! This absolute rando into our house and into the vault,” Roe narrated. She remembered him, remembered that Trotter himself had called and let her know that a man named Chrollo Lucilfer would be coming to appraise the jewelry. She also ended up sleeping with him afterward, but that was beside the point. “Look, the cameras are blacking out, and you’re just standing there!” 

Now this, Offal did not recall. Her hands started to go numb, but she didn’t have the will to move them. Even though she knew what was going to happen, it seemed like any action she took would somehow make the outcome worse. Gripped by terrible suspense, she continued to watch.

“Cameras come back on half an hour later, and you two walk out together. There’s no one in the vault, and everything is where it should be, right?” What happened during that half-hour when the cameras were blacked out? Why couldn’t she remember? “Wrong! Fast forward to twenty-four hours later. They’re disappearing Offal, they’re vanishing! One by one!” The thirty pieces of necklaces, tiaras, gemstones, and rings blinked out of existence before their eyes. “There was eighty billion of Uncle Trotter’s jeni in that vault, Offal! Eighty! And it was all clean and cleared to sell at the Southernpiece Auction!” 

Footage of the empty vault stayed on the screen. Offal knew it was because Roe didn’t want to be on camera again, didn’t want to be seen coming apart. He swallowed loudly, “Uncle Trotter does not know about this, but he’s going to find out once he gets back into town. I have nothing to do with this; I have proof of that, so I know he won’t hurt me.” He swallowed again, and continued with a shaking voice, “But you? Oh, Offal. Oh my god, Offal. He trusted you. He really did. I’m going to have to show him this, and if you’re not scared you should be. I’m so sorry for not telling you what you were getting into when you took my last name. We’re mobsters, every last one of us! Even the ones with real jobs, like me. Don’t know why I thought I could hide you from all of this.” 

Several deep breaths blew out of the surround speakers for what seemed like forever. “He might drag you around for maybe eighty hours, eighty weeks before he lets you die. I’ve seen what he does to the people that cross him. The things he did to his own best friend, I– even if I had a picture, I couldn’t show it to you without gagging. They don’t even look like people anymore.”

She knew. Trotter had shown her the pictures during a family barbecue. He waved it in front of her and laughed like it was a campfire story. 

“That’s why I’m doing this, Offal. Don’t worry, these Zoldycks are the best in the business. I told him to make it quick. It’ll be just like going to sleep. It’s better than what’s coming. If you think I’m doing this because of the divorce, or because I want your stuff, or because you slept with that guy, you’re wrong. I love you, I’m never going to stop loving you, and I can’t even think– I can’t even– I’m sorry.” 

The video ended abruptly, leaving the two to stare at their reflections on the black screen of the television.

“That son of a bitch is going to sell me out!” she erupted. Offal’s nerves felt like they were buzzing. She could feel her skin getting hot. Everything about this was an obvious setup, “He said you were a Zoldyck, right?” 

“Milluki Zoldyck,” he was a little surprised that his own name rolled off his tongue, – targets usually never got the privilege of knowing the name behind the trigger – but Offal’s rage was electrifying and contagious. Roe Marsetter was not a difficult man to hate; he reminded him of Killua in a way that made his blood boil. No respect for family, none at all.

“What are the terms of your contract?” 

“I got here a little early, but I’ve got five days before I have to kill you. My dad’s gonna chew me out if I don’t. If your husband dies before then, the contract is null, and you get to live,” Milluki found himself so consumed with anger that he was tempted to kill his client himself. 

“If you give me those five days and a couple of references to make that happen, I’ll give you the entire collection of Perfect Pink production art.”

“What are you trying to do?” 

“Roe's going to get what's coming to him, and I’m going to get that ugly jewelry back before Trotter Sweetbread notices it’s gone and peels the skin off my body. Rewind the video.” Milluki complied, stopping at the exact point when the false appraiser’s face could be clearly seen, “That guy’s name is Chrollo Lucilfer. Does he have any enemies?”

Milluki squinted at the screen, then laughed darkly, “He’s got some balls telling people his real name. Oh yeah, I know a couple people who want him dead. I’m so glad I snatched this job from Kalluto, this is hilarious.” He pulled his phone from his back pocket, and started dialing, “Hold on – can you afford to blow two billion jeni?” 

“That’s actually cheaper than I thought it would be.”

“Great,” he pressed call. The person on the other end of the line picked up immediately, “You free? I got a job for you. Uh-huh. Yeah.” Milluki turned to Offal, “My brother’s available, here. Ask him for a referral, too.” 

The cell phone was placed next to her ear, and, because she was still handcuffed, she squeezed her shoulder up to hold it in place. A light, monotone voice came out of the speaker, “This is Illumi Zoldyck,” he said. 

“Nice to meet you, I’m Offal Marsetter,” she replied. They discussed circumstances and deliverables, and within five minutes they were able to reach a deal. One dead husband and two referrals for 2.2 billion jeni and change. “I’ll have my lawyer send you a copy of the contract and NDA, but you’ll have to come to his home office to sign it. There are also pictures of the jewelry I’m not comfortable sending electronically that I’d like you to look at before you start. Is that alright? ” 

“Yes, that’s fine. As for your other problem, I do have a few people in mind. Expect my recommendations within the hour,” he stated. 

“Thank you, I’ll see you tomorrow,” she turned her whole torso to face Milluki, phone still clutched in the crook of her neck, “I’m sorry, would you mind?”

Milluki took the phone back and hung up for her, “Sure, my bad.” He unlocked her handcuffs, cutting the zip ties that held her ankles in place. 

Blood rushed back into her extremities, and she shook her hands, carefully rising to stand as her left leg had fallen asleep, “Now, let’s go take a look at those cel sheets, shall– wait, why is the VCR player on fire?” 

“Oh, I rigged that to self destruct after it finished playing. You should probably put that out.”

–––––––––––––––––

In downtown Yorknew City, Illumi stepped out of his rented room and grabbed a bottle of sparkling water from the fully-stocked fridge. “Hisoka,” he called out, “Do you still have that little blond boy’s number? The Kurta?” 

A smooth voice replied from the couch, “Ooh, what for? Troupe trouble?” 

“A client needs help retrieving some stolen goods.”

“From who?” Dark excitement started to waft through the air.

“Chrollo Lucilfer.” 

Laughter crept from him as he went to join Illumi in the kitchen. “My, it’s my lucky day. Would your unfortunate client be looking for a third?” Hisoka cocked his head and gave a smile that seemed a little too wide for comfort. Anyone but the eldest Zoldyck would have been put on full alert by this, but Illumi continued to pour his drink over three perfectly stacked ice cubes, undisturbed.

Normally, he wouldn’t grief a client by introducing them to the magician, but there was something about the way Milluki took the trouble to make a personal introduction that annoyed him. Last time he checked, Milluki hated people. Everyone in this family was going soft. “I’ll refer you.”


	2. Duty v. Opportunity

Kurapika breathed in and breathed out. Despite his efforts, Melody heard the heavy pizzicato of his heart like a string about to break. It had been months since their last solid lead on a pair of Scarlet Eyes. To have something so convenient happen within days of Chrollo’s nen exorcism put everyone on edge, and were it not for Kurapika’s Dowsing Chain, they would never have agreed to take the job. 

Things had not gone well for anyone involved with the Nostrades. Light was a husk; Neon continued to ring up her problems on credit, even though her benefactors had long abandoned them. Kurapika felt like a vulture picking apart the rotten artifacts of new money, but there were networks and opportunities buried in the foundation of their McMansion. He had to be patient. He swept up the crumbs of work that the Dons offered them. He lowered himself to guarding street tyrants, and overseeing drug shipments, and fitting men with cement shoes. 

But it soon became clear to him that none of this was getting him any closer to where he wanted to be. 

Kurapika often found himself wishing for the ability to turn back time; to take his younger self by the shoulders and shake him until the weight of his mistakes made sense. 

He showed his hand too early at last year’s Underground Auction. The enthusiastic bidding war over the Kurta Eyes – one that he entered dressed in the clothes of his people – made his motives transparent. Coupled with the embarrassing theft of both the eyes and Neon’s clairvoyance, it only served to make the Nostrade Family a laughing stock. 

People in the Mafia Community now knew what he wanted; unless they wanted to humiliate him, they kept any information they had to themselves. Few people willingly talked. Most had to be convinced. 

It wasn’t sustainable – following vague leads required too many resources, and there was barely enough jeni left in the Nostrade Family trust to keep everyone on payroll. 

When he received the call from Offal it seemed too good to be true but too good to pass up. They needed the money. He needed something to validate everything he’d done up to this point: wider networks, more allies, information on flesh traders, and operations independent of the Yorknew Mafia. 

They needed to legitimize their business. 

Basho pulled the car up to the agreed meeting spot: a large, secluded house tucked away in upstate Yorknew. Through the windows, they saw a man with salt and pepper hair going through paperwork at his desk, and two women talking to each other at a dining room table. Nothing out of the ordinary. 

Melody stepped out of the car, “There are six people inside. The women are talking about a… oh my, that’s a large diamond.” The man at the desk looked up from his work and started to laugh, “The older gentleman is answering a knock-knock joke. The other voice, that’s – It’s Hisoka.” 

So the timing wasn’t a coincidence. 

“Anyone else?” asked Kurapika.

“No. Other than those in the house, we’re the only people on the property.” 

“Alright, let’s go in.”

“You got it, boss,” Basho turned the sedan off and secured the keys into his breast pocket.

The doorbell rang a cheery tune, one that complimented the rainbow of zinnias in the garden and the bright yellow ginkgo trees lining the driveway. It did not put anyone at ease. One of the women, the one with pale skin and large, piercing eyes, answered the door to let them in. She smiled and extended her hand, “Kurapika, it’s great to meet you. I’m Offal, we spoke on the phone yesterday. Thank you for coming on such short notice. ” 

Kurapika did not return her sentiment, only giving her a firm handshake, “We’re prepared to sign the NDA’s; I’d like to get started as soon as possible.” 

His curtness didn’t phase her at all, “Of course, right this way.” 

Dark, antique wooden molding framed the modernist paintings in the hallway. It brightened up the house, something that Basho appreciated. Kurapika had never cared for interior design, and the fluorescent light and concrete floors of their new office had done a number on his muse. Maybe he could convince the boss to lighten the place up a little. His fingers itched for his brush. This house was begging for a haiku.

They entered the office, a large and equally stylish space decorated with gold, glass, and brightly colored velvet furniture. It looked like something out of a magazine; the kind of opulence that caused Kurapika’s blood pressure to rise.

The salt and peppered man got up from his desk to greet them, shaking each of their hands with vigor and joy. To everyone’s displeasure, Hisoka, Illumi Zoldyck, and a young man in a pink dress shirt were seated at the conference table. 

The magician offered a small wave and a sly smile. 

It was not returned. In the event of an emergency, there were three windows on the south wall to break out of. 

“Hello! Hello,” the old man greeted. His almond eyes crinkled as he smiled, and his heartbeat radiated a genuine happiness. The warmth in his palms was gentle, “I am so happy you’re here, I apologize for making you come all the way upstate.”

“It’s no trouble at all, you have a beautiful home,” Basho replied. He liked this guy.

“That is so kind of you to say, thank you!” he laughed, patting the back of Basho’s hand, “Well, my name is Caul Badson; I am Mrs. Marsetter’s lawyer, as she probably mentioned to you on the phone. Please, take a seat.”

Leather folders waited for them at the table, each neatly arranged next to a pen, a pad of paper, and a glass bottle of water. There were three separate files inside the folder: the NDA, the temporary employment contract, and a manila folder titled ‘Loan Agreement for One #2 Pencil’. Kurapika and company had combed over the non-disclosure agreement sent to them the day before, and other than a few strictly worded remedies they had no reason to object. 

Offal and Caul stood in front of the widescreen TV at the front of the room. The second woman, tall with dark brown skin and an elegant swirl of cornrows framing her face, sat down next to Kurapika. She took a packet of gum out of her purse and silently offered him a piece, which, even though it happened to be his favorite flavor, he refused. What a strange group of people; their cordiality was not a comfort.

“Now that everyone is settled, let’s get started, shall we?” Offal began, “I would like to thank everyone for coming all the way out here. I know it might be unorthodox to come to the home of your client’s lawyer to sign a non-disclosure agreement, but as I’m sure you’ve gathered, this is a sensitive operation. My life is at risk, and I cannot afford to take security lightly. There are special terms and conditions outlined in the agreement provided that we would like to clearly define before you sign. Caul, if you would.” 

Caul nodded, and spoke calmly, “The contracts provided were created with nen.” 

In an instant, everyone’s eyes alighted with Gyo. The folders glowed with aura.

“Please, please, don’t be alarmed. There are a very specific set of conditions that must be met before my ability is activated, none of which can happen without your express consent,” he said with the demeanor of a good professor. A slideshow played on the screen behind him. The first slide read: _A guide to Honor System: Remedy and Restitution_ , “Allow me to explain for you.”

Kurapika and Basho looked to Melody for reassurance, and she nodded to let them know his words were trustworthy. 

“Now, Honor System is a nen ability that activates when a contract is signed. It enforces the terms and conditions that were agreed upon by both parties. Should a breach of contract occur, Honor System will appear to carry out restitution,” a new slide appeared. It contained a professional-looking illustration of a paperclip-shaped character, “It will look something like this. My daughter drew this for me, isn’t he cute? I like to think of him as the unofficial mascot for my firm. She used to call him Clippo.” 

Caul stared at the picture lovingly. If one was looking closely – which Kurapika always was – you would see that he blinked the mist from his eyes before continuing, “Now, if a party has a question about their contract, they can call for Clippo who will happily answer them. While activated, it cannot be seen or heard by anyone except you, myself, and the party you are entering the agreement with. But of course, none of that can happen unless its conditions are met.”

The next slide read: 

CONDITIONS:   
1.) Contracts must be signed willingly by both parties.  
2.) Contracts must be legible and printed only in black ink on white paper.  
3.) Contracts must be signed on Property belonging to Caul Badson.  
4.) Contracts must be written by Caul Badson.  
5.) All remedies outlined must abide by international law and legal precedence.  
6.) Caul Badson must retain his license to practice law.  
7.) Caul Badson must explain his ability in full, and answer any questions about Honor System truthfully.

“Again, nothing can happen without first obtaining your full cooperation. In order to be fully transparent, I would like to demonstrate this for you now. Please, take out the enveloped labeled ‘Loan Agreement for One #2 Pencil’ from your folders.” 

In the folio were a half-page contract, a pencil, and a one jeni coin. 

He pulled out a pencil from his breast pocket, holding it out for display. “It’s very simple: I will loan you a pencil. If that pencil is snapped in half, you must pay me back the one jeni I paid for it. After that, the contract will be terminated, and you will be free of Honor System’s influence. Would anyone like to try first?”

As a show of confidence, Melody volunteered. There was nothing about this man that indicated his actions were underhanded or malicious. She signed the agreement and broke the pencil. The paper clip-shaped nen beast appeared and gave her a friendly wave. “It looks just like the drawing,” she thought out loud. 

“Hello, I’m here because you’ve breached section 1(b) of your loan agreement,” it said, conjuring a copy of the contract, “Restitution of one jeni will be collected.” 

The nen beast wrapped its wire body around Melody’s wrist and fused into her skin. As if by remote control, she stood up and grabbed the coin. “I’m not moving on my own.” She turned her head towards her associates in surprise, but her legs kept walking with a natural gait. When she reached Caul at the other side of the table, she placed the coin squarely in his hand, and the nen beast dissipated. “That’s really quite something,” she activated Gyo to make sure it was really gone. 

“Interesting,” mused Hisoka. He snapped his pencil and found that he was victim to the same result. The lawyer must have had an astounding amount of aura at his disposal. He wondered, “How long have you been learning nen?” 

“I learned it about two years ago, thanks to Mrs. Marsetter. She introduced me to a very good teacher,” he beamed, “Impressed?” 

“Yes. Such a shame that you hadn’t learned it when you were younger,” such a shame indeed; the old man didn’t look like he would last long in a fight. Hisoka returned to his seat and tried his best not to look bored. After all, there was other, more tantalizing fruit in the room. He wondered if it would be more fun to tell Kurapika about his role in Chrollo’s exorcism before or after this little mission. The chain user’s post-auction stunt had deliciously aggravated him. Now that he had left the Phantom Troupe, how much of a fight would the Kurta be able to put up? There was also the younger Zoldyck he could pick off, but something told him that Illumi wouldn’t be too upset if Milluki died. Pity. 

The others in the room asked their questions, and were finally convinced to try the demonstration for themselves; Kurapika exchanged more wordless glances with Melody. This wasn’t something he would normally agree to. The amount of risk involved was unknown. So were the actors; he didn’t even know what it was they were trying to retrieve. All Offal had told him was that they were ‘very valuable articles’, the deadline was in five days, and that confrontation with Class-A criminals was a possibility. 

The only certainty she had promised him was the exact location of a pair of Scarlet Eyes.

They signed the non-disclosure agreements. The terms were more or less the same for everyone in the room and standard for their type of work. If the NDA was broken, the offending party would have to return ten times the amount they were paid. 

“Now that that’s settled, let’s get down to business,” Offal stood, and passed around stacks of photos to each person at the table. “Three days ago, thirty pieces of jewelry were stolen from my home. Together, they hold an estimated auction value of eighty billion jeni. If they are not returned within four days, all of the bones in my body will be broken, and every inch of skin on my body will be peeled away in a process I can only describe as excruciating. Given the fact that they are very close to me, it’s very likely that my good friends, Caul Badson and Marrow Alysha, will meet similar fates,” she motioned towards her lawyer and the other woman in the room. Neither looked bothered by this fact. 

“The man who will carry out our untimely demise is the same man who owns the jewelry: Trotter Sweetbread, head of the Sweetbread Mafia Family. On Wednesday evening, he will be returning from a remote cross-country skiing trip. This is our deadline. Should we fail to meet it, there are certain fail-safes in place to make sure you’re compensated proportionately to the work completed. This is a high-risk campaign; I appreciate your cooperation.” 

A photo of Chrollo Lucilfer appeared on the screen, an enhancement of footage taken from the vault. The air in the room pressurized. Anticipation held Kurapika in a vice; he had known and was expecting this to be a possibility, but this felt like a slap in the face. Red was bursting underneath his colored contacts. There was no way he was going to let the Spider live this time.

“Illumi has told me you have experience in dealing with this individual, which is why you’ve been selected for this job. Two days ago, he entered my home. Exactly twenty-four hours later, the jewelry vanished into thin air. Given the time frame and the size and quantity of the diamonds involved, we estimate that it will take at least a week before a buyer can authenticate them. We have every reason to believe that they are still within his possession. Your mission is simple: retrieve the jewels. Any questions?”

Kurapika cracked the knuckle on his ring finger. This happened within twelve hours of his nen being exorcised, and Chrollo never stayed in one place for long. If the head of the Troupe had fled the city he would be near impossible to track down. This was a problem; time had most likely already run out, “I’ll need a map of the area surrounding your home.” 

“Consider it done,” replied Offal.

“I need one right away. The larger and more detailed, the better.” 

“I – yes, of course. Caul, would you show him to the copy room?” she asked with urgency, anticipating his need for privacy. 

Caul nodded, and the two left the room, only to return within five minutes. Kurapika came back with a crease lining his brows. “He’s somewhere south. If I had to guess, it would be in Yorknew City’s Diamond Avenue,” they could easily take the two hours to drive down there, but his Dowsing Chain wasn’t able to tell him how far south Chrollo had gone. A hunch was just a hunch; he’d been wrong so many times before. “Hisoka, what are your thoughts,” it was more of a command than a question.

The magician smiled, eyes cold, “Oh, I might be able to find him. It depends, though,” his gaze slid like ice to Offal and Marrow.

Marrow stopped chewing her gum but refused to look at him. Offal boldly met his stare, as was her habit to do with everyone she spoke with, “On what?” she didn’t waver.

“Your tolerance for risk, of course. We’re more likely to draw him out than chase him down. Even I haven’t been able to track him down lately,” dark intent colored his voice. Once he caught sight of Chrollo again, he wouldn’t stop chasing him until he got the fight he had been starving for.

“I’m not sure that I have anything left that he would want. I have no leverage,” Offal didn’t like where he was going with this.

“I think you do. If your Hatsu is interesting, we might just be in luck. You seem like a practiced nen user, isn’t that right?” 

Her eyes widened ever so slightly, just enough to tell everyone in the room that what Hisoka had said was true. Milluki’s heart jumped out of embarrassment. Nothing about what had happened yesterday suggested that he had come under the influence of nen, but that’s what made him nervous. If the contrary were true, Illumi would probably drill another needle into his skull to make sure he wouldn’t fuck it up the next time. He kept his mouth shut. 

This was bad.

Melody heard Marrow tap on Offal’s foot under the table. 

“You’re very perceptive. I’m a Specialist,” Offal told the room, but Melody knew she was lying. Her heart skipped in fear as her face stayed calm, “I have an ability that makes people forget they ever met me.” 

Milluki’s panic began to leave him; he was relieved to hear that she wasn’t a manipulator. 

“Why don’t you just use that on the mafia don?” Illumi asked plainly, thinking her an idiot.

“I need direct contact to erase written records or photos. I would need access to the phones, computers, cameras, and journals of everyone I know to scrub my existence completely. The Sweetbread Family would still be able to piece together that the theft was my fault. I’m still married to his godson. We wouldn’t be any safer,” she explained without missing a beat. 

“Seems like it would be very enticing to a thief from Meteor City, don’t you think Kurapika?” Hisoka teased, hoping to see his scarlet eyes sparkle. This job was turning out to be fun after all, “He might even be willing to trade.”

The Kurta endling sat with this information, staring red daggers at the magician, “You don’t want to forget him any more than I do.” 

“No,” Hisoka purred, “but what good is a mousetrap without any bait?” 

––––––––––––––––

Planning went well into the night, and when everyone felt like they had a positive grasp on the situation, they signed the temporary employment contracts and went to work. Illumi went to find his target, Milluki shacked up in the guest room to play video games, and Kurapika’s group made their base in Caul’s conference room. They were unexpectedly joined by Hisoka, who put himself to work in earnest.

Before Melody had a private moment to let them know that Offal had been fibbing about her ability, the woman pulled Kurapika aside and asked him to come upstairs with her. 

The locked room they entered was small, plain, and littered with half-finished canvases. “Could you help me?” she asked as she moved a pile of them to the side, “I kept your downpayment hidden in here. It’s the most secure location in Caul’s house.” 

It was a weird place to keep information, but he obliged her. After some intense organizing, they revealed a safe hiding behind a panel of wall. Offal opened it and positioned herself so that he could clearly see the combination lock, “31, 12, 26” she recited as she turned the dial, “If anything happens to Caul or I, you’re free to collect this whenever you feel it’s safe,” the door opened. 

Inside was a pair of Kurta eyes. 

Quiet rage possessed him; his own eyes turned red to match, “You said you only had intel.” 

“I did, but I was able to call in a favor before you got here. The previous owner was a client of mine. Thought I’d save you the trouble,” she was being honest. 

“And they just handed them over?” it was almost laughable considering the things he had done to obtain his last set of eyes; the depths that he had to sink to.

“I’m very persuasive,” she said with the determination of someone who wanted to live, “and given time, I think I can help you find more.” 

“We’ve already agreed to help you,” he didn’t understand where she was going with this, and he didn’t like it, “Get to the point.”

“I lied about my ability. If anyone were to find out about it, not only would my business be ruined, I might end up with another bounty on my head. Hisoka forced me to show a fake hand. We had no clue that Chrollo was able to steal a person’s Hatsu. I don’t want that lie to cause any problems later down the line.” 

This changed everything. Kurapika’s mouth hardened into a straight line. The gun in his holster weighed heavy on his chest. Things could get very complicated, very quickly at any point during this operation, and any cracks in the road could not be tolerated. 

He outstretched his right hand between them and conjured Dowsing Chain, “If this chain moves, my team and I walk away. I advise you to answer honestly.”

Offal remained unflinching, “Of course. Your trust is invaluable.” 

“Where did you get your information on the Scarlet Eyes,” he demanded.

“Illumi Zoldyck mentioned that it was a point of interest for you. I knew that one of my high profile clients was in possession of this pair, and thanks to my ability, he became convinced to part with them. He offered to introduce me to more like-minded collectors. As soon as this is over, I can take him up on that offer.”

The chain didn’t move an inch, something that inspired dread and hope within him. This was not a job he wanted to drop. He would have to get this to work, “Explain your ability in full.”

She paused for a brief second, “It forces people to empathize with me, and it can be used on five individuals at a time. Any emotion that I feel, they feel too, but its influence gets weaker the less I understand a person. To activate it, I have to ask a question about my target’s mentality, and if they respond affirmatively, my Hatsu will connect us. The duration is six hours. It can be seen with Gyo, which is why, under normal circumstances, I avoid pro and amateur Hunters at all cost,” seeing that his demeanor hadn’t changed, she continued, “My second ability lets me recall any emotion I’ve previously felt at will. Usually, conventional negotiation methods suffice, but failure is never an option for my clients. Hostages, corporate mergers, divorce settlements, people on the edge of a cliff – I may pick my battles, but I have a success rate of one hundred percent. I used it on Milluki Zoldyck; that’s why I’m telling you this in confidence.”

“And the Specialist ability you mentioned at the meeting?” he asked, brows furrowing.

“That belongs to Marrow.” 

He continued without reacting, processing the information at the speed of light, “Prior to the theft, have you, Marrow, or Caul had any contact with any member of the Phantom Troupe?”

“I met Chrollo exactly one time two weeks ago. We were introduced at a party, and it’s my understanding that the introduction was a ploy. He’s really good at telling people what they want to hear; we became friendly with each other. I didn’t see or talk to him again until the day the diamonds were stolen. Trotter called me to say that he would be coming over to inspect the jewels, but it may have been an impersonator or a deep fake recording, I really don’t know. I let him into the house willingly. My colleagues have never met anyone of the sort, and I’ve been able to verify that.” 

“At this point in time, are you under the influence of foreign nen?” 

“No,” she held her breath, watching the chain, “I can say that with certainty.”

This was getting farther and farther from the ideal situation. He didn’t know which Hatsu would be worse to risk as bait. Kurapika played out countless scenarios in his head, most of which ended up with all of them dying. But there was one plan of action he was willing to place money on, “Alright,” he said after a while, placing his hand confidently into his pocket, “I’ll have to talk to Marrow. Hisoka will need to know too. We can keep this from the Zoldycks since they won’t be involved in the retrieval.” 

“Thank you,” she breathed out in relief, “What do you give our chances?” 

“Before this, forty percent. Now, I would say it’s about fifty fifty. I’ll be frank with you: you are going to be assuming all the risk here. I can’t lose anyone else to–“ he stopped himself before he could finish the sentence, banishing his parents and Pairo from his thoughts, “I won’t be putting my team’s lives on the line at any point during this operation.” 

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Offal replied, extending her hand, “If I survive this, I’ll lend you my talents free of charge any time you like. There are a few things I can do to help out the Nostrade Family name, too, if Trotter doesn’t catch on to us. Consider me a volunteer.” 

This was not a situation that he liked, but old rage had grabbed him by the horns. The rewards matched the risks, and he didn’t have much of an option but to accept her offer. The Phantom Troupe, a network of eyes, a benefactor – no matter what, he would see this through to its completion.

Kurapika shook her hand, “I want that in writing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Caul is named after an animal byproduct called "caul fat". Please don't google the word caul by itself! I didn't know this when I named him, but I guess it's an amniotic sack that covers some babies when they're born. It's nasty! 
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	3. Time + Pressure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roe kidnaps a baby. Offal, Chrollo, and Marrow try to reach an agreement. Kurapika and Hisoka do not have a productive conversation.

Ten - Ren - Hatsu Forum: 2:46 AM | User: PlasmaFactory

Title: Does Anyone Want To Steal My Nen Ability LMAO

I know this sounds ridiculous, but I’m so fucking tired of my nen ability. It makes people forget me. It developed when I was like 16, and it totally backfired because I accidentally used it on my parents, and now they don’t know who I am anymore. They won’t even let me in the house. To this DAY they swear that they have never had a daughter. I’ve given up trying to convince them.

Even when I tried to show them the mountains of pictures and videos we took together in our own house, they accused me of lying. It was like a disease. I tried to talk to the other people in my life, but it was the same thing. No one remembered me. It was like I never existed.

Things got better. I was able to build myself back up, and I learned how to control it, and it HAS come in handy a lot of times, but I’m trying to move on with my life. I don’t want to be like this anymore. I can’t sleep because I’m so worried that I might accidentally activate my ability again and lose someone I love.

I know it’s a long shot, but if there’s someone out there who can like… idk take nen abilities away or something please PM me. I’m in Yorknew and could probably meet up today if you wanted.

nen is so fucking stupid please help haha

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“And you’re sure this is going to work?” Kurapika asked. Dawn was starting to break in the Badson house, and the fatigue was starting to sink into his eyes.

Marrow had been fielding replies to the forum post for four hours, most of which were middlemen. Kurapika and Hisoka leafed through the ones that looked legitimate. “Chrollo gets an alert on his phone anytime someone posts on this forum. Don’t worry your little head about it. He’s probably sleeping like a baby. Give it some time,” Hisoka replied in a clipped tone. His trademark bravado had given way to a heavy, piercing determination. The kind that latched into him like a tick; the kind you wouldn’t notice until it was ready to burst with blood.

“One more for you, boys,” Marrow hit print with a dramatic clack of her nail, “Got a feeling that this one’s a winner.”

Hisoka snatched the first copy as soon as the last line printed and smiled, “Respond to this one. Our Bandit’s online.”

The message was simple, and this frustrated Kurapika immensely. What he had been trying to do for months was being done in mere hours by the people in this house.

–––––––––––––––––

From: Gethsemane12

Subject: Inquiry About Your Post.

Your story was so moving - I am absolutely distraught to know that your nen has been causing you so much trouble. I believe that I can help you, and I hope that you will give me the chance to do so.

My ability functions similarly to that of an exorcist. Depending on the conditions of your Hatsu, we may be able to solve your issue in as little as an hour and at no harm to you. However, we will need to meet in person. I’m very close to Yorknew City, and if you’re available, I can meet you later this evening.

Please let me know if this sounds acceptable to you. You will not be charged for access to my services, of course. Nen works in strange ways; you did not deserve or wish for any of this.

I look forward to your response.

–––––––––––––––––

Marrow yawned as she typed out her response, “Great, we can finally go to sleep. I’m telling him to meet me at my favorite cafe for introductions, and then to my dojo on the second floor for business.”

“He’s a dangerous man. Aren’t you nervous?” asked Hisoka. He knew the answer already, a fact that made the muscles under his skin itch.

“Not really. Won’t be the first creep I’ve given the slip. Won’t be the last,” she blew a gum bubble, and refused, still, to look him in the eye.

“I certainly hope not,” he replied smugly.

“That includes you.”

He laughed deeply and grinned in a way that sucked all the joy from the room. “Now, now don’t be like that. You’ll get me worked up,” he dared her.

“Oh, my bad,” she looked at him this time, serene in the face of his presence, “I didn’t mean to be rude. Just a little on edge is all. I’m sorry for taking it out on you; I really appreciate you helping us out.”

Hisoka yielded, “Wouldn’t dream of doing otherwise. I’m on the clock, after all.” Tough crowd. It didn’t bother them though, there would be plenty of opportunities to get a rise out of them later. Any longer in the room and he might start a violent game of cards with the two, but it was not yet time for that, “Well, my work for the morning is done. I’ll be lounging in my room. Give me a knock when I’m due for hair and makeup.”

“Hisoka, you’re positive this is him?” Kurapika demanded, always demanded. Conjurers. So high strung.

The magician smiled professionally, “Oh yes. The patronizing tone, the twelve disciples in the Garden of Gethsemane; he always did have a hard-on for Judas. It’s a bit tacky if you ask me. He’ll take the bait. Good night,” he opened the door to the hallway and was greeted with the red beams of the rising sun, “Or rather, good morning.”

The sunlight left as he closed the door behind him, and the room returned ot a facade of night. Marrow took this time to rub her palms over her face, sighed loudly, and slumped her elbows on the table. It was like seeing a ship come back ashore. She looked relieved; more true to herself, “Damn, I really can not stand that guy.”

“At least he gets the job done,” replied Kurapika, who was equally relieved to see Hisoka exit the room.

“He better. I mean Tacky? He’s calling someone Tacky? I should have taken Offal’s money, I swear to god he is too much to put up with for free.”

A chuckle escaped him. While he could agree that the leader of the Phantom Troupe was tacky, this was definitely the pot calling the kettle black. “Wait, you’re not getting paid?”

“Nah, we go way back. She didn’t even want me here, begged me to leave the country. But it’s like, if you knew your best friend was going to get her skin ripped off, what would you do to stop that, you know? How could you let that slide?” she explained as she typed her response into the keyboard, “Not on my time.”

He didn’t speak for a long while. Marrow stopped typing to look up at him, “Oh, I – uh, did you go through something similar?”

A shard of light danced through the curtains. “Yes,” he wrestled with the words to say, “About five years ago.”

“How old are you?” she asked. She was 25 with a birthday coming up; that would be a decade without a family.

“I’m nineteen.”

“Nineteen, huh?” the number didn’t sit right with her. He was too hardened for his age, “You were fourteen when you went through something like this? Man, I… Are you good?”

“I get by. I think I’ve done well.”

She sent her reply to Gethsemane12 and stretched her arms out behind her. There was a part of her that told her to mind her own business, but it quickly gave way to her samaritan curiosity, “Do you know what I was doing at nineteen? I was helping out at a martial arts studio. Nothing serious, mostly little kids. I lost all my documents when my folks put me out on the street, so it was under the table. The boss was a real hardass, but I wouldn’t have traded it for anything. Those kids were so excited to see me. Really helped me feel like a real person again. A couple of them are trying out for the Olympic team next year. Even if they forget me they’re not going to forget what I taught ‘em. You got anyone like that?”

He had helped the Nostrades out plenty, but that never made him feel whole. There was Gon, and Killua, and Leorio to an extent, but that was so long ago. His life had moved on so quickly after the Underground Auction that he simply did not have a chance to miss them. Were they fourteen now? Was Leorio a sophomore already?

The years caught up with him like rubber snapping into place. Kurapika shifted in his new suit and wondered when, exactly, he had chosen to stop wearing his traditional Kurta clothes. They were in garment bags at the back of his closet; opaque, unopened, and shoved aside by a growing collection of cheap black ties. He no longer stood out. He did not want to. He was two years older and a brand new person.

“Yes, I do,” this line of questioning had embarrassed him, “Have you gotten a reply yet?”

Marrow refreshed her inbox as a courtesy, “No, nothing yet. What are their names?”

“There are Gon and Killua, who are fourteen, and Leorio. He’s a pre-med student. We took the Hunter Exam together.”

“Damn, they’re giving kids Hunters Licenses now?”

“They’re more like forces of nature.”

“Sounds like it. What are they hunting?”

“Gon’s father. It’s been a while since I’ve talked to them, so I’m… I’m not exactly sure how that’s going,” he checked his phone’s notifications on instinct. There were no new messages. A longing crawled into him, and Kurapika wondered if relationships had an expiration date. He would call them. When this job was over, and when the Troupe was dead, and when the world was right again he would call them. He just had to get this finished, first.

“Hey now, everyone likes hearing from an old friend. Doesn’t matter how much time has– oh wait, holy shit,” Marrow hunched over the laptop to read the new DM up close, “He’s down. We got him. 8:00 PM, today. Yes! My girl is keeping her skin.”

Kurapika did not share in her excitement. His anger and grief and resentment didn’t lunge into his teeth like he had expected it to. Instead, it crawled over him and settled on his heart like a bronze cast. Chrollo would die tonight; this was not something that excited him. It was simply a fact.

–––––––––––––––––

In a hotel suite in the better part of Yorknew City, Roe Marsetter was not having a good day.

“Caul, listen to me. Caul – I don’t care how you do it, but if you don’t get Offal to make me the sole beneficiary of her will by tomorrow, you are never going to see Ambergris again. Do you hear me?” he yelled into a burner phone. The sweat was starting to stain his shirt collar.

An eight-month-old infant screamed in the background. It was as pleasant a sound as crying could be, and it was also a noise she rarely made. Many people would agree that Ambergris Badson was the most perfect baby that had ever been born.

However, none of this mattered to Illumi. Most sounds above a whisper were considered a disturbance, and most disturbances could easily be solved with knives or needles.

He pulled two out from his jacket when his phone started to buzz. It was his client, “Hello?”

“It’s Offal. Have you found Roe yet?” her tone was pleasant.

“Yes, I’m about to move in. What do you need?”

“Does he have a baby with him?”

“He does.”

“I cannot believe this,” she paused for a moment to say something rude under her breath, “That’s Caul’s granddaughter. Could you please bring her back to the house when you’re finished?”

“His granddaughter? You don’t say,” Illumi’s mind whirred at the thought. If this infant had even a fraction of Caul’s potential, she would make for an excellent butler. Humans were a lot like dogs; it was better to train them young, get them used to the family, “Sure. I’ll do it for free.”

“Thank you so much. I have to get back to work, but you’re a lifesaver.”

He was, wasn’t he? At least that’s how he thought of himself. Illumi, grand shepherd of the Zoldyck Estate. The places his family would be without him!

The suite was easy enough to get into. His needle slipped into Roe like butter, and Illumi decided to leave him to his own devices. There was enough cocaine in the room to kill twelve horses – a habit that his wife was not privy to, but one that made perfect sense in context. There would be no questions about his death.

As Roe committed his last act of excess, the eldest Zoldyck sibling approached the crib. Ambergris calmed at the sight of him. She smiled in the sweet way that babies often do, reaching towards him for attention. It reminded him of Kalluto just before they started weaning him on poison. Yes, this individual had a lot of promise. And now that he thought about it, maybe he could convince Caul to come work for his family too. They had an opening on their legal team thanks to a mix up with Mikei at the testing gate. It was so hard to find good help nowadays; Illumi couldn’t help but feel like he’d tapped a vein of gold.

He scooped the young Badson into his arms with the kind of care normally reserved for his younger brothers. After securing a makeshift sling, Illumi left the way he came: through a window on the 40th floor. Getting onto the roof and crawling down the fire escape was a breeze. Ambergris, who was delighted to leave the presence of her godfather, stayed silent and curious against his back. Other than Killua, she may have been the most perfect baby that had ever been born.

Mother would be so pleased!

–––––––––––––––––

It was 8:01 PM at the crowded Four Hearts Cafe in Yorknew City. Marrow was seated at a table next to the door. Melody was at the bar with Basho, who was holding an animated conversation with one of the baristas. Waiting in the dojo’s backroom on the second floor were Kurapika, Hisoka, and Offal, who was the only one not wearing a disguise.

A lone man dressed in black entered the cafe.

The cell signal had been acting up ever since they got there. Melody tried to send a text to alert the team upstairs, but it took several minutes to go through. She hoped that the hidden microphone was transmitting alright. The air buzzed, but the conversation was as clear as day.

“Gethsemane twelve?” Marrow stood to greet him as he approached her, shaking his hand.

The man laughed lightly, “You can call me Chrollo. Sorry for being late, were you waiting long?”

“Oh please, you’re not late at all! Would you like something to drink? My treat. I’m Marrow, by the way,” if she was nervous, it didn’t show at all.

They made small take and politely argued about who was going to cover the bill. Marrow won out and paid in cash. Neither drank their coffee.

When they sat back down his demeanor did not change. He was still pleasant, “Marrow, I hope I’m not coming on too strong here, but I think I know why you agreed to meet me. Does this have anything to do with a woman named Offal Marsetter?”

This was good. He jumped right to the point as expected.

“Should have hid my socials better,” she pursed her lips into a defeated smile, “Kind of. I’m genuinely looking to get rid of this ability too. I think we can turn this into a win-win for all of us.”

“I would be very interested in seeing how that works out. To be honest, I’m surprised she’s still alive.”

“Yeah, she’s one crafty bitch. So, if you knew what my deal was, can I ask why you reached out in the first place? You don’t seem like an exorcist.”

“You could say that I’m a collector. Abilities concerning memories are pretty rare; I’ve only met one other person like that. She was a good friend. I wanted to see if you were similar. How did you develop it?”

“It wasn’t really a process. My parents and I got into a fight; I got so mad that I wished I had never been born, and it came true. I was homeless for a bit. Got into a lot of trouble trying to eat. When you don’t have anything, what are you supposed to do, you know? Took a lot of experimenting and tinkering, but I can localize the effect on an individual person. Never been caught since.”

“That is convenient! Would you mind doing a demonstration?”

“Come on now, I don’t do free shows,” she laughed, “Besides, the conditions haven’t been met yet.”

“What would those be?”

“What are you paying to know?”

He sat and stared at her. Not like a person, but like a frog before dissection. From his pocket, he pulled a black leather charm box, placed it on the table, and invited her to open it. Inside was a 5 carat Deep Red Diamond set in a platinum ring. It was worth at least two hundred million jeni and was the least valuable piece from the stolen collection. “This is the real one, right? It’s not going to disappear?”

“It’s the genuine artifact. I’m very interested in seeing what else you have to offer.”

“Have you found a buyer for the rest of it?”

“No, not yet. Our appraiser is still working through the catalog.”

Basho laughed in the background to signal that Chrollo was telling the truth.

“Great, we can keep talking then. The rules are simple: for individuals, I have to be touching them and say, ‘I wish I had never met you’, and mean it. For what happened ten years ago, I have to say, ‘I wish I had never been born’. I’m petty, so it’s an easy condition to fulfill,” while she said this, Marrow started to type on her phone, taking great care to make sure her nails didn’t click against the screen. She passed it to him under the table, “I don’t think you knew this, but Offal’s got two abilities you’re going to be interested in too. There are no hard feelings, we’re willing to negotiate.”

The screen read: Mafia may be listening. I have GPS on Hisoka Morow – he is in the city. In exchange for stolen diamonds, we will trade our abilities + buyer addresses and 12% of profits after jewelry sells at Southernpiece Auction. I will give you his location, Offal does not know. Do not ask her about it. Deal must be reached by end of day, or you will forget this conversation ever happened.

“Didn’t take her for a nen user. That woman is certainly full of surprises. I think we’ll be able to reach an agreement,” he nodded and typed a reply.

What he wrote made Marrow’s blood stop: PT has an opening. Would you consider an invitation, too?

“Let’s go upstairs.”

They stood to leave. Melody hadn’t been able to send or receive any text messages since Chrollo entered the building. The thunderous change in Marrow’s heartbeat – which had always been so calm and lovely – troubled her. Something about the situation had changed, but there was no way to alert Kurapika. At the eleventh hour, all information was critical. As soon as Marrow and Chrollo left, she walked outside to call, text, do anything to alert him that something was wrong, but nothing would go through.

–––––––––––––––––

The microphones weren’t working. Cell phones weren’t working. Wifi wasn’t working.

The only thing that worked was the dojo’s black and white CCTV. It did not have audio.

“Shit. Shit,” Offal was tearing the place up looking for an ethernet jack. The plan could not proceed unless they were able to reach Caul.

Hisoka, who was dressed in a long, black wig and green dress shirt, found one beneath behind some mats. He waved her over as silently as he could.

“Help me move the table over,” she mouthed to Kurapika, shushing them into the soundproof backroom afterward. Her fingers shook as she tried to log in to the internet. The first time, she typed the password in wrong; the second time, she accidentally turned caps lock on. Did they cut the internet too? No; it connected on her third try.

“Ok, February 7th, 5:32 PM. I’m in the middle of my biggest deal yet, and it’s going great.” Empath’s Hotline activated, and sharp confidence flushed the fear out of her. Her breathing returned to normal. Her hands stilled. She started the video chat with Caul.

It was two minutes later when a rhythmic knock struck the door. “He’s all yours,” Marrow said as Chrollo entered; she opted to wait outside. She needed a chance to breathe, to think.

“Chrollo, nice to see you again,” Offal shook his hand and invited him to sit down.

“I’m glad that you’re in good health, Mrs. Marsetter,” he smiled empty and polite and held her hand a little longer than was professional – a rookie tactic to throw her off her game. It didn’t work.

“At least look a little surprised to see me. You probably weren’t expecting this from a serial gold-digger, am I right?” she laughed.

“Yes, I’ll admit that this possibility did not come up. Not many people manage to catch my attention twice.”

“Thank you,” the conditions for Heart Quake had been met. Offal pulled out the thick contracts that Caul had prepared for them and turned the laptop around, “This is my lawyer, Caul Badson. Let’s talk diamonds.”

The stakes for this negotiation were the highest they had ever been in her short career. It put her on a high she thought she would never come down from. Her only goal in life was to win because winning simply felt good. Winning meant laughing all the way to the bank; winning meant forcing respect out of your opponent; winning meant being as far away from poverty as possible. Everything in her life had been designed around that fact. This conversation would be no different.

There were times – not too far away from the present moment – where the presence of her greed felt like a loan shark banging on the door. But then a beacon would emerge to remind her that the rewards were worth the risks. A richer husband, a lucrative contract, a useful acquaintance she could trick into friendship. Offal Marsetter had nothing personal against the man sitting across from her. They were cut from the same cloth; everything they owned was stolen.

Caul went through the contract with them. It took four long hours, and by the end of it, the thirty-page agreement had been whittled down to twenty-five. There was a loophole concerning the second most valuable piece of the collection that Chrollo was expected to jump through. Something that he did not think to question, because it was written to look like a very advantageous error.

The jewelry requested was not presented as a list according to value, but alphabetically in one single paragraph: The Butcher’s Earrings, original; The De Marie Necklace, original; The Devil’s Tiara; The Evensong Pendant, original; etc. Elsewhere in the contract was vague legalese that demanded the collection be delivered, ‘in full and untampered’.

When all was said and done Chrollo picked up his pen to sign, but his hand stilled at the last second. He snagged her gaze, “There is another way that I could make this problem go away for you very easily.”

She challenged him, “By killing the Sweetbread Family?”

“Are you not interested?”

“It’s too public, bad for business. Believe me, this,” she said as she clicked her pen, “Is the most convenient option for the both of us.”

“I might kill them anyway,” he said in a calm voice like he was talking about a movie he wanted to see.

Offal laughed, exasperated, and signed the contracts, “No. I’m calling your bluff on that one.”

“Suit yourself,” he replied and likewise signed, “Shall we get to the downpayment?”

“We shall,” she pulled out a rotary card file filled with dates, times, and memories: the physical component of Empath’s Hotline. “It’s kind of useless without Heart Quake, but I’ll walk you through how it works. Name an emotion.”

Offal cried on request as a loud and verifiable example that her Hatsu worked as intended. It was the only thing that could be heard from the back room, where Kurapika and Hisoka were waiting in radio silence.

Their eyes had been glued on the CCTV, their only source of light. Neither of them spoke or made any sudden movements. They were both intensely aware of the other’s conviction and were equally determined to get first dibs on Chrollo Lucilfer’s life.

The man of the hour spoke into a walkie talkie – the jewels would be here, but there was no telling when. It could be fifteen minutes. It could be an hour. Could they wait that long in this suffocating anticipation? Kurapika thought that Hisoka might burst into action at any moment. His face was gaunt, and his eyes had glazed over about forty-five minutes ago. It was clear that he had not gotten any sleep; this could be disastrous.

“Do you remember the signal –“

“Tell me,” Hisoka rasped out. He did not move away from the screen, “Who do you think found a nen exorcist for Chrollo?”

Kurapika’s face contorted and his eyes snapped red. He fought to keep his Zetsu in check. Were it not for the timing of their situation, he would have released it immediately to drive a Judgement Chain into Hisoka’s heart. He didn’t reply. He didn’t dare. He wasn’t sure if he could handle the answer.

“It was me.”

Kurapika felt like he was being boiled alive by his own anger. He tried to imagine the sound of Melody’s flute. It hardly worked.

Hisoka continued, “If you pull a trick like that again, I don’t know what I’ll do.” He laughed without sound. Air puffed from his mouth, covering the TV screen with condensation.

There was nothing he could say that would de-escalate the situation. His entire body was on pins and needles. Kurapika knew that nen exorcism was a possibility. He was furious with himself for not killing the Chrollo when he had the chance. If Gon and Killua hadn’t been there, how would that day have changed? How many more lives had he damned by letting Phantom Troupe live?

“Don’t worry,” he spit the words out like acid, “He’s dying this time. If you get in my way I’ll –”

He was interrupted in the knick of time by Hisoka’s finger stabbing at the screen, “Where is he going?”

Kurapika’s mouth snapped shut. To dance so close to such an obvious taunt was yet another mistake he might never forgive himself for. If only the microphones worked. If only there was something to distract them from the crooning violence that soaked the room. He checked his phone again – still nothing.

Offal made a thumbs up at the camera and made vague hand gestures to say that he would return in five minutes.

She looked pleased with herself. She did not know how close things were to falling apart.

–––––––––––––––––

Chrollo was satisfied with the negotiations. There were two, excellent courses of action before him, and the only challenge left was to decide which one to take. The last variable was Marrow Alysha.

He exited the dojo to find her standing watch in the hallway. She was on her phone and didn’t bother to look up at him. He stood against the wall opposite her, “Have you given any thought to my offer?”

Gum popped in her mouth. She gently scratched the skin between her cornrows, putting her phone in her pocket to face him properly. Her chest heaved with a sigh, “What would change if I said no?”

“Nothing much, since we’ve already settled on an agreement. I know you want to abandon your nen ability altogether, but I really believe that we would benefit from having you in the group. It’s tight-knit. I am confident that you’ll fit right in. Most of us were abandoned in Meteor City, so we know what it’s like to be forgotten,” his voice was so kind, and he seemed so reasonable. Marrow was half convinced that the rumors about the Phantom Troupe really were just rumors.

“I…” it was tempting. If she was five years younger she would have joined in a heartbeat, but things were different now. She had a place that she belonged, and friends that she could count on. “I’m sorry. Caul just got me real, genuine papers, I’m getting married, my dojo’s set to open in a month. I’m just starting to get my life together again. It sounds like fun, but I can’t.”

“That’s a shame, but I’m happy for you. It’s a relief to hear that things are going well,” his smile was like water flowing under a bridge, “Do you know where the men’s room is?”

“Oh, uh, turn the corner, and it’s the last door on the left,” she paused, “What was your friend like? Were we similar at all?”

“I think so. She always put others first. Offal should feel very lucky that she has someone like you by her side.”

“I tell her that all the damn time,” Marrow laughed lightly as he left.

Inside the bathroom, Chrollo knocked on the last stall three times.

“Shalnark, give me one of your antennae. We’re targeting the specialist.”

“Did the deal fall through, boss?”

“It did, right at the last moment.”

“Can’t win ‘em all, I guess. I’ll let Kalluto know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *taps mic* Alluka is a girl and if I ever see illumi on the street i'm going to beat him

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!!  
> I'm currently looking for a Beta!


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